Every night, suffocating darkness plagued these mountains, as everyone hid from the cold, which still sought another soul to consume. Staying inside, hoping it was sated, was the only way to see another day.... except in Ourar village. Tonight, it defied convention; lamps and neon lights glowed, laughter and conversation filled the air.
In the old days, such vibe was reserved for corrupt government officials. But times had changed; now, criminals received similar treatment.
This quiet part of the Grand Atlas was forced into it when the Liberal Coalition took over, passing bills that promoted a lax approach to crime. People whispered it was a plan to dismantle the middle class, turning the population into uneducated savages, thus eliminating any opposition and securing total control.
However, the plan backfired. Criminals soon escaped the authorities' grasp, who had initially intended to use them as extrajudicial enforcers. Rural areas became unmonitored, leading the government to cut aid, finances, and essentials, leaving organized crime as the sole provider.
And this is how a criminal found himself sharing the same room with wise, religious and educated men.
Feets laying next to each other were enjoying tea and dried fruits in this large rectangular space with low windows, serving as a living room for Berbers –North African natives–.
Everybody was having a fun time. Except one: Saïd's father, Ali, who sat with a clenched tea cup in his hand, glaring deadly at Jinn and his buddies.
He was an old school guy still believing in the central authorities. not out of principle, but because it had given him power, reputation, and occasional wealth.
His family had held sway in the region for generations, starting with his grandfather, who had spied for the French during their occupation of Morocco.
In those days, after the French left, his grandfather was rewarded with properties and positions, but he squandered it all on alcohol and prostitutes.
As his influence declined, the grandfather pushed his son, Hassan (Ali's father) as a replacement.
Hassan, one of 17 legitimate and illegitimate kids, saw an opportunity to claim his father's wealth. He used deceit and intimidation. leaving his father to die in neglect, fueled by alcohol.
After a bitter legal battle with his siblings, Hassan won, but at the cost of his reputation, especially among the Berbers who value Islamic ethics.
Hassan spent years without kids consuming cheap meat to fulfill his sexual desires, afraid of being done the way he did his father.
In his 50's, a torrent of regrets haunted him as the fountain of youth started to dry, he softened, got married, then gifted with his first child: Ali -Saïd's father-.
Ali will be his only child. He grew up spoiled, resulting on his first rape accusations.
Hassan's life soon consisted of fighting his son's accumulating cases, using bribes and threats. This got people heated again, prompting his siblings to reopen the past court cases.
Hassan watched bit by bit his properties taken and returned to them. He had spent a fortune in legal fees. This time, he was powerless. He saved his son, but he was doubting if it did matter ?
The answer will come soon as his physical and mental health started to decline. and like he did his father, he rotted alone in his farm house. but unlike his father, his wife wasn't there for him, and he quickly found himself transported to the hospital where he died one month and a half after.
This whole time, Ali was in the Khenifra region seeking as many drugs and prostitutes as possible, until he got slapped with the news and found himself the inheritor of a disputed amount of wealth.
He got the call in a red lighted room surrounded by "friends" and prostitutes.
Shocked, he sat there naked. everybody was having fun, except him, the one who paid for everything. even the one who was cuddling with him felt something was wrong, and silently left.
The next day, Ali was alone in his car, all his "friends" refused to accompany him knowing that the prostitutes were paid for 1 week in advance.
Driving back, his thoughts were consumed by fear of losing everything, perhaps even his life.
his fingers wanted to take any other turn than the one he was supposed to, but to where?
The roadsides stopped being flat and got higher; He was getting closer to the mountains. For the first time, Ali understood he had no choice but to face it himself—his father was gone, and for good.
The car stopped at Ait Ourir,the central town of the surrounding villages. He stepped out, scanned the surroundings, nobody knew who he was, and nobody cared. This was supposed to make him feel safer, yet somehow, it only left him more uncomfortable.
He wandered into a coffee shop, the only one with a modern digital facade.
Ali got in, sat at the table, and kept playing with the touch screen covering its surface.
These dudes still didn't set up the menu to order from here.
He fixed the waiter for a moment. Until he finally turned, then flashed a professional smile and approached, but Ali's attention was quickly diverted by a presence behind him.
A tall guy with a mustache reached out. He wore the newest version of cyclops smart glasses, but the temples next to his ears were too large to merely offer time and weather.
Ali kept looking at him without reaching back. He took his hand and said " I knew your dad, well, i didn't know him but i knew of him, that…." then fell silent as the waiter stood close.
"Hot milkshake please," he said.
The waiter smiled, then turned to get Ali's order, but Ali was staring at the table unable to process.
the stranger intervened "And an ice tea for my partner here, thanks"
The waiter smiled nervously and quit. The stranger kept speaking, but Ali,overwhelmed by all kinds of scenarios, wasn't listening. He got back to the conversation when he noticed the word (lawsuits) being thrown around.
He then murmured out of his anxiety: "the lawsuits? you mean the one my cousins have against my father's properties?"
The stranger stopped as he realized everything said before had not been heard, then answered in a clear tone: "Yes."
Ali pulled the chair closer. The stranger was now sure he got his full attention. He connected his glasses to the smart table, and showed some documents: "Here are the 23 lawsuits held against your father's properties. I can get rid of 15 of them just using my relationships, and for the rest, we need to figure out other ways."
Ali glanced at the man's face, he couldn't fully see his eyes, but his tone made him confident.
"Ok, what do I need to do?".
"Just take your father's previous role with the government." he added.
Ali thought for a second, then asked: "isn't There anyone taking care of that at the moment?".
The stranger hesitated, then confessed in a lower tone "I mean… we've run into some issues with the population here lately…"
Ali noticed his reluctance to elaborate further. but it didn't matter, this was Ali's only way out.
"Ok then, when do I start?"
The guy suddenly cut him off: "BE-FORE, you need to pay a visit to Marrakech, there is …. Let's call them 'procedures' to do. After that, you're welcome to your new post."
Ali suddenly woke up from his memories of The Jinn talking loudly.
He got disappointed realizing he was still in the same living room, where a criminal is getting all the attention, and where he lost all his power.
He tried to take a sip out of his tea, but found it was already cold, so he left the cup on the ground and followed the conversation:
"Hey, you're still on that collecting satellite fall offs, C'mon man, you've been on the same thing for years now. If you still ain't getting nice cars and some sick weapons, get yourself another job buddy." said The Jinn addressing one of the attendants.
"So what the deal man, tell me some."
The Jinn slid his hand inside his jacket and pulled multiple things.
Ali was able to see them from a distance, And was completely shocked:
wires, chips…..and BLOOD...EXACTLY LIKE THE ONE INSIDE MY HEAD!